


first, do no harm

by AcrosstheTallGreenRiver, rainydaze13



Series: Misfits Across The Universe [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrosstheTallGreenRiver/pseuds/AcrosstheTallGreenRiver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydaze13/pseuds/rainydaze13
Summary: a thing about original characters. written with acrossthetallgreenriver





	first, do no harm

**Author's Note:**

> written on discord with acrossthetallgreenriver. you can kinda see who wrote what

 

“I am not your enemy,” the woman says, hands raised to show that she has no weapons. Isabelle knows better than to trust her.

"You helped one of **them** therefore _you_ are a problem." Is bit out, her Arabic was lightly accented, sword trained to the woman's neck. If one helped their enemy, they _**became**_ the enemy.

The stranger simply watches her with cool, uninterested eyes.  “I am a doctor. I do not want to take sides in a pointless war when there are lives that can still be saved.”

"Our war is not pointless, if the assassins simply saw the wisdom of our way, and ceased interfering, no one would need to be pieced back together." The sheer _audacity_  of this woman astounded and angered the Crusader. 

“You want to take away their freedom,” the woman says quietly. “To many, that is worse than death.”

"Freedom? HA!" Isabelle openly scoffed, "Freedom allows others to murder, plunder and injure. Is Freedom truly worth allowing it to continue?" She challenged, her back ached in remembered pain, mind conjuring the scent of smoke and the screams of the injured. 

“Yes,” the woman says with such conviction that Isabelle has to admire her audacity. “Freedom to live, freedom to love, freedom to live as yourself, with no one controlling you.”

“Humans need to be controlled.”

“Do you think yourself above humanity, then?”

"What is humanity, healer? What would you define them as? Villagers running about, directionless, purposeless? Ready to sell themselves and others for coin and trinkets?" Isabelle gestured around the decrepit buildings, "Humanity, is nothing but animals pretending to be something they are not."

“Do you think yourself the judge of humanity?” the woman asks, and now there is a deadly edge to her voice. “Do you find yourself so much better because you have lost hope?”

"Tell me Healer, do you truly believe that there was ever any hope to be had?" Isabelle could not help but pity this woman, her naivety would one day harm her. 

“Hope is all we have left,” the woman says, and then her hand is on Isabelle’s, guiding the sword away from her throat. “Maybe one day, you will find it again.”

And then she is walking away, black and white robes seamlessly disappearing into the gloom.

The Frenchwoman gazed after the Healer, sword held loosely in hand, before she deftly sheathed it.

  
It did not matter what that woman thought. All too soon she would learn what she had as a child.


End file.
